


A New Oath

by unassumingvenusaur



Series: SRCU (Sahri Rhoshaan Cinematic Universe) [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Emetophobia, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Getting Together, Illnesses, Love Confessions, MommaWoL, Past Relationship(s), Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Sick Fic, for Thancred/WoL, for Y'shtola/WoL, ish, its complicated, only briefly in the first scene tho, the "illness" is the typical stuff you see for the WoL in late 5.0, there's cuddling. cuddling is good, uhhhh what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:13:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unassumingvenusaur/pseuds/unassumingvenusaur
Summary: A scare with the light bursting within Sahri has Thancred realize how little time he might have to say what needs to be said.
Relationships: Minfilia Warde/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Y'shtola Rhul/Warrior of Light
Series: SRCU (Sahri Rhoshaan Cinematic Universe) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058933
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	A New Oath

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo, almost done going through the fics I wrote while playing 5.0! Just one short one after this. I'm itching to get back to writing new things--and after editing this perhaps a few Thancred things are warranted.
> 
> This is the culmination of Thancred and my WoL's relationship I mentioned in the notes for [_Smiles False, Smiles True_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104279) so I hope people enjoy that! I wrote this (and it's set after) the second visit to Amh Araeng in 5.0 and GOD the juicy Thancred character development there, I was so proud of him and the Ran'jit fight was *chef's kiss*. Also some Minfeelings since that whole thing happened.
> 
> As indicated in the tags this one does come with a brief emetophobia warning in the latter part of the first scene, and I guess I should wrap general squick over the sin eater transformation in there as well. Nothing too bad but I'm sure someone will appreciate the warning--if that's you, try skimming/skipping from "Glass shatters" to "We're going to walk, moonbeam" in the first scene.
> 
> The name of the Warrior of Light in this fic is Sahri Rhoshaan.

It is a rare day that Sahri wakes to a lack of summons from the Exarch. She glances around the lobby of the Pendants and spies no familiar faces. Unsure where else to go, she begins to haltingly wander in the direction of the Crystal Tower. The daylight seems more intense, more blinding than usual, and the sun beating down makes her feel ill. That was not a good sign. Fortunately, she spies on the Exedra two figures of immense comfort—Y’shtola and Ryne, engaged in conversation. Ryne spots her approach and waves.

“Oh, good morning, Sahri!” The girl is beaming. Y’shtola turns to greet her as well, and Sahri smiles at them both.

“Good morning, Ryne. Y’shtola. The sun is harsh today, isn’t it?” She expected easy agreement from such small talk, but she’s met with confused stares and a tilt of Ryne’s head.

“It…seems like a rather normal day to me.” She turns to the woman beside her. “Did you notice anything unusual, Y’shtola?”

The woman shakes her head. “I cannot see it for myself, of course, but I’ve heard no one mention something out of the ordinary.”

Oh. Another symptom of Sahri’s…affliction, no doubt. This was not the foot she wanted to start the day on, so she wills it from her head.

“Well, never mind that—does the Exarch have need of us?”

“He is apparently making ‘preparations’ for our discussion about Kholusia,” Y’shtola explains, sounding exasperated. No doubt she’d prefer to be privy to those ‘preparations.’ “Meaning you have more time to rest, yet. Speaking of—did you manage to get any sleep last night?”

Sahri bites the inside of her cheek. “…Somehow.”

To be honest, Sahri wasn’t certain if she would _be_ here right now if it wasn’t for Ardbert’s…intervention, but it did afford enough calm to let her drift off peacefully.

“Oh, that’s such a relief to hear!” Ryne smiles at her. Being able to see the smile in her eyes brings it to a new level of adorable. “We were all worried about you. Y’shtola and I stayed up late talking about ways we could help.” Sahri’s eyes widen. She feels a warmth burning in her heart.

“You did?”

“We did,” Y’shtola confirms. “Ryne was determined to make progress towards a solution. I have a much better grasp of her control over light, now. It’s still theoretical, but we have conceived of a regimen that should give you more than a few fleeting hours of relief.”

Sahri smiles broadly, feeling tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Her…experience the previous night had cast her into despair, but the care—love?—shining through these two’s actions and words pulls her back up to the surface. Her promise to Y’shtola rings in her mind. She won’t give up the fight. For their sake, and for her own.

“Thank you…Thank you both,” she tells them with love in turn. “That’s wonderfully kind.”

“It’s the least we can do for you!” Ryne exclaims. “Really.” Sahri turns towards the girl. The determination and confidence on her face is still so strange to see, but it fits her beautifully. She feels a twinge of pride.

“You truly are an amazing girl, Ryne.” Sahri places a hand on her shoulder. “By all means you’ve earned rest, but instead you’re putting in more effort for my sake. Thank you.”

Ryne’s cheeks tinge the cutest pink. “You’ve always been so kind to me, Sahri. I just…I just want to be able to help you, too.”

Sahri hears Y’shtola’s smirk before she sees it. “Incurable mother hen, indeed,” the woman quips. Sahri can’t help but giggle, and Ryne beams at her. 

“By the way, Ryne—” Y’shtola gives the young girl a nudge. “Didn’t you have something you wanted to discuss with Sahri, here?”

“Ah. That’s right.” Ryne’s expression turns serious. “Sahri, we…we were all so swept up in Thancred’s injuries, and then finding the next Lightwarden, that I was never able to ask, um.” She takes a small but noticeable breath. “…Did it make you happy? To…to see Minfilia again?”

‘Are you okay with how this ended?’ Sahri hears. Cleary, she needed to make her response as emphatic as Thancred’s. 

“Oh, Ryne.” Sahri gets on a knee and places a hand on each of Ryne’s shoulders, looking her directly in the eyes. She smiles--a true smile. “Being able to see her one last time…give her a goodbye—a proper goodbye… It meant more to me than I could ever say. She looked utterly at peace—and that’s…” A stray tear falls. “That’s the most I could ever want for her…”

“Sahri…” Ryne’s voice bursts at the seams with emotion. In spite of herself, Sahri is unable to stop her tears from flowing. She sees Ryne tearing up in return. Sahri feels a hand on her back—Y’shtola’s. Her smile only grows.

“I could tell how proud she was of you, Ryne—for finding your resolve. For wanting to take your destiny into your own hands.” Sahri knew it. It’s the only outcome Minfilia could have ever wanted. “And...I am, too,” she adds. “You’ve grown so much, even in the short time I’ve known you. And it’s a growth I want to protect. I can’t wait to see the woman you become.” 

Ryne sniffles through tears, but wears a smile on her face.

“I won’t—I won’t let you down, Sahri,” the girl swears. “I promise, I won’t.” Sahri reaches to place a hand on Ryne’s head.

“I know you wo—”

Glass shatters.

Sahri shrieks in recoil, knocking away Y’shtola’s hand.

“S—Sahri?!” Ryne cries in surprise. 

If Sahri wasn’t already on the ground, she would have tumbled to it. By the Twelve, her hands don’t even know where to clutch—her head, her chest, everything is in pain, everything is broken. Her body is alight and it _burns_.

“Damn it all, it’s happening again!” There’s an urgency in Y’shtola’s voice. “Ryne—quickly. As we practiced!”

Any sound Sahri might hear is drowned out by the glass shattering again and again in her ears. Her vision blurs. She feels her heart squeeze, her bones straining to crack.

“Stay with us,” Y’shtola pleads as if she were barking a command. “Stay with us, Sahri!”

Sahri doesn’t notice the two pairs of hands on her back until a cold burst of relief starts pouring in from their source. The light quells, the pain diminishes—and an unbearable nausea sweeps into her stomach. The next thing she knows, she’s vomiting a puddle on the ground in front of her.

“M-Mercy…” Ryne flinches, but does not pull back. 

With that expelled...Sahri actually feels the tempest in her body swirl to a stop. Instead of pain, she is left with weakness—trembling on hands and knees above the mess she’s made. Two pairs of hands soothingly rub at her back, and her breathing slows. As her vision returns to her, she notices what lays before her is not, in fact, the contents of her breakfast, but instead…a pure white liquid with an ethereal glow. She’s…she’s seen this before. Where has she seen…?

…Streaking down Tesleen’s face, as she lost her humanity to the light.

Suddenly, Sahri feels like she’s going to be sick all over again.

“Sahri,” she hears in a small, worried voice. “Sahri, please say something.” 

…Right. She’s…she’s not alone. She’s not alone. She answers through ragged breaths.

“Th-the…the pain…stopped,” she gasps. “Thank…thank you…” Sahri hears two sighs of relief.

“That was quite a scare. Can you stand?” Y’shtola asks her.

Sahri tests her legs, but finds them uncooperative. “I…think I’ll need some help,” she admits.

“…Very well.” Y’shtola’s tone once more grows a touch of concern. “With me, Ryne.”

“A-Alright!”

Y’shtola and Ryne take Sahri’s arms and, with some effort, help her find a standing position. Y’shtola pulls Sahri’s arm around her shoulders and leans the woman’s weight against her. Now able to look around, Sahri sees many are staring.

“Ryne.” Y’shtola looks the girl in the eyes. “I’m going to take Sahri to her room. Might I trust you to tell the Exarch what happened? We’re not going to be doing any business today. Meet me in Sahri’s room afterwards. We’ll need to continue our efforts to make them last.”

Ryne nods. “Of course.”

“And…” The woman gestures at the ground. “See if he can do something about this. It might be hazardous.”

Ryne makes a mortified expression, but nods before scurrying off towards the tower. Content at seeing her off, Y’shtola turns her attention to Sahri.

“We’re going to walk, moonbeam,” she says, much quieter than before. “Are you ready?”

Sahri gives a weak smile. “Lead the way.”

Slowly, but surely, the two begin to make their way back to the Pendants. Sahri studies Y’shtola’s face. It’s subtle, but Sahri recognizes the panic on it. She last saw it when the Eulmorans confessed their poisoning of Slitherbough.

“Sorry to worry you,” she decides to say, earning a firm shake of the other woman’s head.

“These…attacks are only getting worse. We’re in no shape to confront Eulmore like this.” Her expression is stern. “You _must_ needs rest, today.” In response, Sahri leans her head against Y’shtola’s.

“Will you stay with me?” she requests. “I…I don’t want to be alone.” Truly, the thought terrified her…

Y’shtola’s mouth falls slightly agape as she looks at Sahri with surprise. She recovers with a deep smile and nods her head, giving Sahri a quick, affectionate pet.

“Of course.” Her voice is sweet. “I’d be there even if you didn’t ask. Ryne and I need to continue with our treatment. Perhaps I should have her fetch some of my books in aetherology—we’ll have an abundance of time to spare, after all.”

Sahri’s smile grows playful. “What, to bore the poor thing half to death?”

Y’shtola quirks an eyebrow. “You’re not so ill as to hold back your retorts, I see.”

Sahri simply giggles, nuzzling into her position against Y’shtola. Her grip on Sahri grows the slightest bit firmer.

………………………………………………………………………………

“…And he hurt you so badly he gave you these scars?” Ryne asks in disbelief. “How monstrously powerful. Are…Are you sure this story has a happy ending?”

Y’shtola’s attempts at study had prompted naught but a furrowed brow from young Ryne, so the three had shifted to sharing stories instead. Sahri lay back on her bed, Y’shtola and Ryne pulling up chairs to her bedside.

“It does, I assure you.” Y’shtola is smiling fondly at the girl. “I may not have been there to witness the end, but Sahri did eventually overcome Zenos and free her home with Lyse.” She turns her gaze towards Sahri. “It was quite a journey to get there, though, I understand.”

“Indeed it was.” Almost frustratingly so, Sahri thinks. “We had a rather long detour through the Far East…”

Ryne tilts her head. “I don’t understand, though. Why weren’t you there to see the end, Y’shtola?” The woman closes her eyes and considers her next words.

“The same night Sahri sustained those injuries, Zenos struck me down as well,” Y’shtola informs her. She cracks a smirk. “Unfortunately, I cannot say I put up as much of a fight. I have a rather similar scar to her, down across my chest. Only the one, though.”

Ryne’s eyes widen. “I’m so glad you both made it out alright…” The poor girl sounded terrified. Y’shtola shakes her head in reassurance and gives Sahri a teasing look.

“I was out of the action for quite a time after that. From how similar our injuries were, Sahri’s rapid recovery was remarkable compared to mine.” Y’shtola wore a smile, but her gaze was piercing. Sahri internally braces herself. “How ever did you get well enough in time for the trip to the Far East?” she asks, just as Sahri expected. Knowing she’d been caught, she idly scratches her cheek.

“I…I didn’t, to be honest,” Sahri confesses, suddenly far more content to stare at her bedsheets. “It took…quite a bit of talking around Alphinaud to get myself added to the roster. I don’t think my injuries fully healed until the boat ride back from Doma.”

“Which was nearly half a year after the fact, I might add—Following a _second_ unsuccessful bout with Zenos, no less,” she chides, making her disapproval abundantly clear. “No doubt you kept reopening them in your battles. ‘Tis not the most favorable trait you picked up from Lord Aymeric.”

Sahri hazards a glance back at her companions, unsurprised at what she finds. This is the first time she had ever been on the receiving end of an angry glare from Ryne... It was surprisingly intimidating.

“Sahri!” the girl scolds. “Oh, you’re just like Thancred. Why didn’t you let yourself heal properly?”

“People needed me,” Sahri tells her. It was the same she’d told herself in that medical tent in Castrum Oriens.

“But people need you alive, Sahri…” Her eyes are wide with sincerity. “Was this pain from the Lightwardens affecting you before you told us, too?”

Sahri’s silence is all the answer she needs. Ryne sighs. 

“I knew it.” The girl places a hand on Sahri’s shoulder. “Please…Please promise you’ll be honest about when you’re in pain, Sahri. Don’t just…push through it, silently. It’s not good for you.” Sahri can’t help but smile at Ryne’s sincere concern and the conviction with which she delivered it. She raises her hand to pet Ryne’s hair.

“Alright. I promise, Ryne-bean.” 

Any further scolding from Ryne is halted by the embarrassment over the new nickname coloring her face. That, and a knock at the door which startles the three.

“…Ryne, could you see who that is?” Y’shtola directs her. Ryne nods and walks in the direction of the door. Sahri shares a glance with Y’shtola and speaks in a low voice.

“How long have you been waiting to scold me about that?” she asks.

Y’shtola looks positively triumphant. “Long enough.” The door opens, and Ryne immediately speaks.

“Oh! Hello, Thancred.” 

Both women’s attentions are drawn to the doorway, and surely enough, there stood Ryne’s self-appointed guardian. He wore his typical attire, albeit bereft of his gunblade. Sahri recognized the smile on his face--a generic, guarded smile meant for pleasantries, not to convey happiness. What he truly felt behind it was anyone’s guess.

“Ah, this is where you ran off to, then.” He takes a few steps into the room and glances towards the bed. “And the lovely Y’shtola too, I see. I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The playful sarcasm in his voice prompts Y’shtola to roll her eyes.

“You are. But we can deign to let you in anyway.” Y’shtola glares at him, but Sahri knows this too is playful. 

“How very generous of you. My sincerest thanks.” Thancred mimics a bows. Sahri notices Ryne has made her way to her side, a puzzled expression on her face. She whispers.

“Um…Sahri? I’ve been wondering…” There is naught but innocence in her eyes. “Is this what…’flirting’ is?” Sahri nearly shrieks with laughter, giving Ryne a start.

“Oh…Oh, honey. _No_ , it is not.” Ryne only looks more baffled, but Sahri’s laugh draws Thancred and Y’shtola’s attention.

“Well, it’s heartening to hear our patient laugh, if nothing else.” Thancred walks to Sahri’s bedside and, rather than taking a seat, kneels on the floor. At this proximity, his eyes allow Sahri to pinpoint the emotion that hides behind his smile. Worry. For her, no doubt… Sahri feels her heart soften.

“How are you faring, my friend?” he asks. There’s a tender tone to his voice that Sahri is only used to coming out…Mmm. It feels wrong to think about that in Ryne’s presence.

“I’m…much better than I was earlier,” Sahri tells him. “That’s thanks to Ryne and Y’shtola’s efforts.”

The man looks directly at Ryne. “You two have done a good job, then.” The girl smiles back. A pause. “…Do you think she’s at a point where I could have a little chat with her alone? I shan’t need more than an hour.”

Sahri is taken aback by his request, but she lodges no protest. Ryne glances towards Y’shtola for an answer. Y’shtola furrows her brow and looks to Sahri, silently asking if it’s alright. Sahri nods, and Y’shtola shrugs.

“…I suppose she is.” The new glare she gives him is far less playful. “Just make sure she _stays_ resting, Thancred.”

Thancred puts a hand to his chest in faux offense. “You wound me, truly.”

“What are you talking about, Y’shtola?” Ryne asks the woman. Y’shtola shakes her head, smile returning to her face.

“Pay me no mind. Nothing more than the ramblings of an old crone.” She places a hand on the girl’s back. “Come along, then, Ryne. We should inform the others of Sahri’s progress.” 

Y’shtola leads Ryne out of the room, the girl peeking back in to wave before she shuts the door. Then, the room is silent. Thancred is slow to turn his head and meet Sahri’s eyes. The two look at each other, and Sahri gives a curious tilt of her head before he opens his mouth to speak.

“…I don’t think I’ve seen you bedridden since Zenos laid you low in Ala Mhigo. I have to say, you look a fair bit closer to death’s door than you did then.”

Sahri smiles. “…It’s been a while. We were just talking about that, actually.”

Confusion fills the man’s face. “What, about Zenos?” He shakes his head. “I’ll not ask why and get off course. You…Urianger informed me about your _episode_. Was it…as grotesque as it sounded?”

“Worse, likely,” she informs him. The subtle horror that has been present on Thancred’s face grows undiluted. They share an excruciatingly long silence. 

“Ah,” Thancred eventually says. “Not what I was hoping to hear. Thank you for your honesty, though.” Sahri only nods. “ …Sahri. In Amh Araeng—do you remember our walk back to Twine to deliver the leonine heart we discovered?”

“...I do.”

“Then you must also remember how we needed to take a break halfway through,” he continues. “When you started to cough, and it turned into a fit. You nearly passed out against my chest.”

Sahri does remember. The coughs were dry, full-body, painful.

“Y…Yes.” She grimaces. “You thought it might be the sand.”

Thancred’s eyes narrow. “And you mentioned you might be falling ill. Which struck me as strange—after all, in the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once succumbed to an illness, nor shown any signs of it.” His tone gains intensity. “Yet now, only a few days later, you’re struck with another medical episode of far greater severity. And Urianger says it likely has to do with the Lightwardens—the Lightwardens, of all things!—whose aether you’ve not been negating with your blessing, but simply absorbing, leaving it to fester and wreak havoc on your body and soul. Is he right, Sahri?”

Sahri draws her mouth into a thin line. She closes her eyes, face grave.

“…He is.”

Thancred’s head falls into his hands. The silence that falls between the two is deafening. Once again, it is Thancred who finally breaks it.

“…Also not what I was hoping to hear. I know better than to doubt Urianger, but…” He sighs. “Mayhap Lady Luck isn’t as firmly on your side as I thought.”

“I’m still here,” Sahri weakly tries to reassure him. At that, Thancred takes a steadying breath and lifts his head from his hands. A week ago, he might be looking upon her as if she was already dead. But instead, in his eyes, she finds resolve.

“Tell me honestly—how long has this been affecting you?” he asks. “You needn’t sugar coat it for my sake.”

Sahri rests her hand on her chest. “…Well, it’s not always been as severe, but…I’ve been affected in varying forms since I took in the first Lightwarden. It started as a dull throb, but now…” Thancred scoffs--she can only assume it is directed at himself. 

“It’s as I feared, then. From when I first encountered you in Lakeland, you were already afflicted. Already in pain. Yet I was so caught up in my own brooding, I couldn’t see it, even when you were right next to me.” He pauses. “Or...perhaps I could, and chose to ignore it. Either way, I seriously failed you.”

Sahri sits up and folds her arms, shaking her head. “No, Thancred. I was doing my best to hide it. And I can’t blame you for having so much on your mind.”

The man smiles to himself. “Yours is a kind impulse—a large part of how you charm your way into the hearts of all you meet, I’m sure—but I’m afraid it’s wrongheaded, in this case. Surely you noticed my own struggle while you suffered yourself, yes?” 

Sahri cannot maintain his gaze. “Well…Yes.” There was no denying that.

“Thus leaving me the pompous arse who owes you an apology.” He places a hand on her shoulder, face growing most serious. “I’m…deeply, truly sorry, my friend.”

“Thancred…”

A smile returns to his face. “Lest you worry, I did not come here to make you watch me forge myself new bonds from my past failures. No. I’m quite finished with that.” That...was most heartening to hear, but it left Sahri confused. 

“Then…why did you come?” she asks him.

A breath, then renewed resolve on Thancred’s face. “I’m here…Because when Urianger informed me of your condition, I was not simply concerned over the wellbeing of a comrade. No, I was struck with a bolt of some of the rawest terror I have ever felt.”

Thancred…Thancred has ever been difficult to read, but right now, Sahri is at an utter loss. Never has he admitted something like that to her.

“Th…Thancred?” 

Thancred smiles sadly. “Confused? I’m not surprised. Hah…I came here knowing _what_ I had to do, but the _how_ yet eludes me.” The man briefly closes his eyes and bows his head in reflection. “...Hm. Do you remember the night our little relationship began? It’s been much longer for me, but I remember it as clear as da—well.” He grins. “Clear as night, I suppose.”

In spite of her confusion, of the awkward tension that has saturated their conversation, Sahri giggles. A sound which has Thancred’s smile reach his eyes for the first time that day. Sahri smiles right back. Ah, even after everything, she was still so weak for his brand of charm. Truly, she had not changed as much as she thought she had from her days as a fledgling Scion, quietly fawning over Thancred in Thanalan. Whatever he was wanting to say, she was helpless but to listen fairly.

“Well? Do you, Sahri?”

Ah. She was so caught up in reminiscing, she hadn’t responded.

“I…I do,” she tells him. “How could I not?”

“I’m pleased it was as memorable for you. I thought it might have blended into the hundreds of other frigid Ishgardian nights you’d experienced.” His smile turns to a frown. “Of course, neither of us were exactly _pleased_ that night. Rather the opposite.”

“Yes…It was after. Well.” Sahri pauses, atmosphere heavy. “We found out what had happened to Minfilia, when Flow had taken her in.”

Thancred gives a slight shrug. “To this day, I’m still not entirely sure why you chose _me_ to confide in.”

“…I’m not certain, either,” she confesses. “Maybe you were the only one I thought would understand. The only one...who knew her like I did.”

“Mmm…” He nods in understanding. “That would make sense. Regardless, it was a humbling sight indeed to see Eorzea’s champion, adorned in armour as a tribute to her lost love, weep openly over the loss of another—over her own lack of control. It was enough to shock me into remembering you were a woman before an implacable warrior.” He places a hand to his chest. “And thus did your pain become sharply resonant with my own--in a way I was utterly unprepared for. I had not an inkling of what to do, til the thought flashed in my head to pull you into my arms. So I did.”

Sahri smiles fondly. “Yes…You did seem rather unsure of yourself.”

“You, on the other hand, seemed very certain when you kissed me,” he teases. Sahri’s face burns red.

“Can you blame me? In a moment of weakness, a handsome man had pulled me into his arms. And as I recall, going off to bed was your idea.”

Thancred grins, spotting his moment. “Can you blame me? In a moment of weakness, a beautiful woman had just kissed me.”

Sahri breaks into laughter, and Thancred soon joins her. Oh, what _was_ this? They never laughed together like this. Never so genuinely, and certainly never over their shared misfortune. This felt…natural. Easy. Easy in a way interacting with Thancred had not been in a very long time. It was beyond therapeutic.

“…How have we never talked about that before?” Sahri wonders aloud. 

“That’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Thancred tells her with a sigh. “I wasn’t eager to talk—well, about much of anything. I was content to file our little encounters away with the rest of the gloom I felt. It was simpler that way—I didn’t have to think about what it really meant. It wasn’t until the stinging pain of your absence I realized how much I had taken you for granted.”

Sahri’s guilt surges to the front of her heart. “…Thancred…I’m sorry. That I wasn’t there with you.”

Thancred immediately stops her. “Oh, no, none of that. I wasn’t deserving of your pity, anyhow. After all, when I did have you back, I fell into the same old habits. Even…” There’s a gentleness to his gaze. “Even when my heart swelled, seeing the frankly adorable way you and Ryne got on with each other, I did nothing to change my behavior. Later, I said. Later, I’ll sort that out. And, to bring a close to an exceedingly long point—when I heard about your affliction from Urianger, I realized how easily that ‘later’ could become ‘never’ if I chose to do nothing. So.” He shrugs in an exaggerated manner. “Here I am. Blabbering on to you about something I could easily summarize in a sentence or two.”

Sahri’s mouth felt dry, knowing where he was headed. Her heart pounded, and not from any sort of pain. But she needed to hear him say it before she’d allow herself to believe.

“…Speak plainly, then.”

“Hah. As you wish.” Thancred reaches to take her hand, and for a moment absorbs the sight of it held in his much larger one. Then he presses his lips gently against its back, drawing a small gasp from Sahri and sending her nerves alight. Oh, this was so cruel…

“Sahri, I have been a damned fool, and that needs to end.” His eyes blaze with passion. “If you would give me the chance, I would like to court you properly. As a lady deserves.” Sahri breaks out into tears. Damn it. Damn it all. She should be so happy, and yet…

“If I would give you the chance? Thancred…” She stifles a bitter laugh. “I’ve thought myself doomed to a one-sided love with you for years.”

Thancred looked flabbergasted by her casual confession. Just as she’d imagined he would. Just as she hoped he wouldn’t now.

“L…Love, you say?” he asks, cheeks tinging the slightest pink. “Sahri… I—”

“Please. Don’t.” Sahri cuts him off with a shake of her head, splashing tears onto her sheets. “Don’t say another word. Not until you know what’s happening to me.” Thancred’s face falls in an instant. His posture becomes noticeably more rigid. Yet…his resolve from earlier does not fade.

“Then, please. Explain to me.”

Sahri crosses her legs and folds her hands on top, doing her best to maintain her gaze.

“I…My humanity is slipping away between my fingers, Thancred. I’m not just in pain. I’m losing myself.” She can see the moment cross his face—the moment he loses the ability to be truly at ease around her. That did not last very long. She knew it was coming, but that did not make it hurt any less.

“…What?” His voice is weak, airy. “Are you…are you turning into a sin eater?”

Sahri grits her teeth--he needed to know. “If not, something equally as monstrous. Shtola and Ryne’s interventions…I’m terrified that they might be the only thing allowing me to keep a sane mind.”

“…Damn it.” He rests his forehead in his palm. “Damn it all.”

“Even they won’t be able to help me forever,” she tells him, trying not to let her terror show. “But they don’t need to. I just need to hold out until we can slay Kholusia’s Lightwarden.” 

Thancred slams a clenched fist against his leg. “You tell me we’ve been on a grand old quest to turn you into the biggest bloody sin eater around, and you just want to march on to its inevitable conclusion?” 

“Please don’t misunderstand.” Sahri musters her resolve. “Y’shtola, Ryne, and now the Exarch are doing everything they can to find a way to avert it. I’ve promised them, myself—and now I promise you that I will not stop fighting until my last scrap of humanity fades. But…” She bites her lip and averts her eyes from his. “No matter how much I fight it, no matter how much you all may want to protect me—there may be no answer in the end. And I won’t deny Norvrandt its night, or doom the Source to its Calamity. Even if that’s at the cost of my life. You know that’s what’s right.” 

Thancred grimaces, but remains silent.

“That…that is the path I walk, Thancred,” she says, finding her way back to his eyes. “I…I don’t want you to pledge yourself to…to protect me, or whatever else, only to lose me. I don’t want to be your next Minfilia.”

Sahri could swear she hears ringing in the silence that follows. But it’s over sooner than she expected, as she gazes into Thancred’s eyes…and sees resolve ever burning.

“Sahri.” He looks down at her hand again, still held in his. This time, he kisses her palm, lingering. Sahri squeaks. “If the worst happens…If you lose yourself, in the end…My last act of love will be to do whatever must be done to keep you from hurting the people you care about. I will remember your conviction. And I will move on. I will not linger in my regrets as I did with Minfilia. I swear that to you.”

That…That…was not what Sahri expected to hear. Not at all. As the gravity of his words sink in, she chokes back multiple sobs. 

“Y-you…” She wipes her face. “You…really?” Thancred smiles at her, bringing her heart to an ease she should by no means have right now.

“Really.” He squeezes her hand. “I told you—no more binding myself with past regrets. I understand I don’t have the best track record, there, but…”

“No, I believe you. I believe you…” She does. His conviction shines through. He…He’s come a long way. A freer man than she’d ever known him—even before Lahabrea took command of his body.

“You do? That was easier than I expected. In that case…” The man leans closer to her. “If I’m not to be bound by the past, I don’t want you to be bound by what-ifs. I beg of you—don’t hold off love with potentialities. Futures we can but avoid if we fight together, rather than apart.”

By some miracle, Sahri’s smile had returned. Yes…I won’t, I won’t…Is what she says in her head. Her actual next words are a different matter.

“You love me, then?”

“I—” The man’s eyes go wide, and he takes a few moments to find his voice. “ _That’s_ what you took out of everything?” He laughs, just as easily as before. Sahri feels his voice join Y’shtola and Ryne’s in keeping her head above water.

“If it was not obvious, then yes, I do love you,” the man tells her with a broad--a genuine--smile. “Perhaps you were fooled by my façade of confidence—or was it my brooding distance?—but I am not a man who can be intimate with someone and not feel. That’s gotten me into trouble on a few occasions, trust me.” 

Sahri is unsure what to do with this happiness coursing through her—so, she leaps at Thancred, kissing him. While he does return the kiss, he also ends it far too soon.

“Whoa, now.” He pushes her slightly back. “You’re supposed to stay in your sickbed and rest, remember? I wouldn’t want to get on Y’shtola’s bad side.”

Sahri smirks. “You’re not already?”

“Hah! Oh, you’ve never _seen_ her bad side if you think that’s it. Now, come on—back in the bed with you.” Sahri pouts as Thancred picks her up and lays her back on her bed, but stops when she sees Thancred deftly kick off his boots and shrug off his cloak and other loose accessories. He climbs into bed next to her and pulls her to his chest.

“There we are. Restful?”

Sahri nuzzles against him, sinking into the feeling of his arms.

“Mmm…For certain.” She was in very real danger of drifting off, like this. Oh, this was all she could have wanted. Another love. Another reason to keep going. But before sleep finds her, Thancred speaks again.

“Don’t think I’m going to give up on you easily, though,” he tells her in a quiet voice. “I may not have quite as useful a skillset as Y’shtola, here, but anything and everything I can do to see you to the other side of this all, I will.” Eyes wide with a feeling Sahri finds difficult to pinpoint, she looks up at Thancred. Still smiling. Still, it reaches his eyes. “If it’s not too much to say…You, Ryne and I almost have the start of a little family going on, don’t we?”

A family…? Sahri’s heart squeezes, but she shakes her head. “With me as a mother, you mean?”

“Well, yes.” He quirks a brow. “Unless you object to that? You certainly seem to enjoy acting as one around her.”

Sahri frowns. “…Everything considered, I’ve not been a presence in her life for long at all. It would be wrong to call me a mother in the same way you are her father.” That is a title that will forever elude her, she thinks.

“Convenient for us it’s not a competition, then.” Thancred runs a hand down Sahri’s back, reassuring. She shudders at the touch. “I feel like you certainly fill the role in her life a mother might have. If you do not think yourself worthy now, then one day. That future is worth protecting. As are you.”

At a loss for words, Sahri only smiles. She presses her lips against Thancred’s. This time, he does not pull away.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………………….

Y’shtola walks down the hallway on Sahri’s floor of the Pendants, Ryne in tow. The girl is finishing the last of a sweet fruit that caught her eye in the marketplace. When she reaches the correct door, Y’shtola pauses.

“…Ryne. Wait here a moment.” 

“Huh? Oh, alright.”

Y’shtola smiles at her before turning to the door. She can’t hear anything on the other side, at least, but Thancred is certainly still in there, in troubling proximity to Sahri. Slowly, she opens the door, peeking her head inside. Fortunately for her and Ryne both—not to mention Thancred’s own wellbeing--without the obstruction of the wall, it’s clear both are still quite clothed. Asleep, with their limbs tangled around each other, if she isn’t mistaken as to what the form of their aether suggests. She beckons to Ryne.

“Ryne—Quiet, but come look inside.”

Ryne seems puzzled until Y’shtola opens the door wider and points to the sight within. Y’shtola can’t see the expression on her face, but the delighted little gasp tells her all she needs to know.

……………………………………………………………………………………….

“There. That should last you the duration of our campaign in Kholusia.” Y’shtola pauses and taps her cheek. “…Hopefully. If you encounter any more problems, Ryne and I can improvise. Just let us know.”

The sun had long since set, and Ryne was no doubt sound asleep in her own room. Y’shtola had stayed behind to put the finishing touches on Sahri’s aetheric treatment. Sahri beams at her.

“I will. Thank you, Shtola. You’ve…done me a true kindness, today.”

Y’shtola shakes her head. “I’m only being diligent in my work. Any less would be a disservice to you. Do you think you will be in fighting shape, tomorrow?”

Sahri takes a moment to ponder it. “…Yes. Yes, I believe so. One day of rest is enough.”

Y’shtola only smiles. “One full day is more than you’ve gotten in months, I’m certain. I’ll consider that a job well done on my part. Do you need anything else before I take my leave?”

…There was something Sahri wanted to ask, in truth. Thancred’s earlier bout of courage had her inspired.

“Nothing I need, but…Will you hear a request?”

Y’shtola nods. “Go ahead.” Sahri’s face flushes at the intimacy of what she’s about to ask, but she’s long past letting embarrassment hold her back.

“…Would you…sleep by me, tonight?” she asks sheepishly. “It would do my heart good to see your face when I wake. To...to remind me…that I’m still here.”

Sahri had tried to be careful in her word choice, but when she sees a pink tinge in Y’shtola’s cheeks, she can only pray she wasn’t misunderstood.

“…What, and hold you like Thancred did earlier?” Though it contained an edge of teasing, Sahri could tell the question was serious.

“Oh—Oh, no! Anything—Anything you are comfortable with, just—” Her stammering is stopped by a finger to her lips. Y’shtola smiles down at her, filled with affection.

“Pray do not wind yourself up about it, moonbeam. I’d be glad to.”

 _Oh._ Sahri’s heart squeezes, and she freezes in place for Y’shtola. After setting down her things and snuffing out the candlelight, Y’shtola climbs into bed behind her—wrapping her arms around Sahri and pulling her back to her own front.

“Is this acceptable?” Her tone is warm in a way that blankets Sahri’s heart. “Facing one another will not do much for me, but like this, you can feel my presence at your back as you wake. …And I may be content in knowing I still hold you in my arms.” Sahri isn’t convinced she hasn’t already fallen asleep, but she plays along regardless.

“…That’s wonderful. Thank you, Y’shtola.”

“Good, good. Sleep well, Sahri.”

By the gods, Y’shtola had been right. And not begrudgingly, technically right—wholeheartedly. Sahri still had so much to live for. So much life she wanted to _live_. This…This won’t be the end. She won’t let it be. 

She…She……….

Sahri promptly drifts off to sleep in the comfort of Y’shtola’s arms, ready to face the fight for her life in earnest come the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Ryne: Mom and dad _do_ love each other!!! *heart eyes* 
> 
> Just like dad and dad...


End file.
